


Lemon Tree

by DemonnPrincess



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003), Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Abuse, Blackmail, Child Abuse, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-13 01:25:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7956730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonnPrincess/pseuds/DemonnPrincess





	Lemon Tree

2:48am. The halls in the station were quiet, nearly pitch black except for the very faint light shining through the windows from the waning crescent moon in the night sky. Second Lieutenant Breda yawned audibly as he made his way down the hallway, relieved to be finished with the overtime he was given earlier in the day. For a good minute or two the sound of his boots tapping against the floor were the only sounds in the hallway, but he froze when he heard a very soft whimper, almost like a newborn puppy, and he stood still to listen.

“What the hell?” He said out loud to himself by mistake, but only loud enough to where he could hear.

“…hh…nhhh….”

“Who’s there?” He said even louder, and suddenly the sounds stopped. Breda squinted his eyes and strained to see in the darkness, noticing a shadow-like figure against the right wall of the hallway, in between two windows. He stood still for a moment longer to observe it, not sure as to what it was. When it finally stirred for a slight second he yelled to it again, this time from being startled. “Who is that!”

The figure seemed to hunker down to be even smaller, as if it were trying to be invisible.

Breda decided to walk up to it to see what it was, figuring that if this person or thing was going to attack it probably would have done it by now. “Hey.” he called as he got closer. “Who are you? What are you do…ing…” His voice trailed off and he frowned out of confusion when the figure began to sound again and he recognized the whimpering voice.

“…I’m so……..I’m sorry…God…..if you’re there…please…just this once….I won’t bother you ever again…please...”

“Hey.” Breda kneeled down next to the twelve-year old, getting no acknowledgement for his presence from him.

“…I wanna go back to Granny’s house…..I wanna go back…..please just help me……give us our bodies so we can go…..”

Breda couldn’t see his face, or any part of his body. The boy had taken his red jacket and wrapped his entire body in it, appearing like a very small pile of dirty laundry which he would’ve mistaken him for had it not been for the crying and subtle movements. After a short moment he realized that the boy didn’t even notice him there.

“Hey.” he called again, leaning closer to him. “What’s the matter?” Breda softly put a hand on the boy’s back, and almost immediately he became hysterical.

“No! NOOO! Alphonse! AL! ALPHONSE!”

“Hey!” Breda hurriedly tore the jacket away from the boy and grabbed him by his shoulders, forcing him into an upright position the best he could. “Hey! Calm down! HEY!”

The boy wouldn’t open his eyes. They looked soaking wet. He wouldn’t willingly turn his face towards him.  And his knees stayed bent up against his chest no matter what. He just kept screaming his brother’s name and repeatedly kicking Breda in the stomach, almost resembling a toddler throwing a massive tantrum while trying to be calmed by an adult.

“I don’t want to! I DON’T WANT TO!”

“What don’t you want!” Breda yelled back, now having him by the forearms and shaking him to try to calm him. “Hey! HEY!”

The twelve-year-old squirmed his way free, attempting to run but smashing face first into the wall he was leaning against moments earlier before falling back down into a fetal position on his knees.

“Hey?” Breda reached out and touched his back again, calmly this time. He noticed his hair was very disheveled, part of his braid sticking out in various directions along its length. As were his clothes. Even in the darkness he could see some light-colored stains on some parts of his black pants. He could feel the boy’s breathing slow a bit. “Hey.” He called again for the nth time. “What’s wrong? Your room is on the other side of the station. Do you need help refindi-“

Before Breda could finish his sentence the boy shot his gaze upward, seemingly past him. He gasped and slapped Breda's hand away, snatched his jacket back and stormed off sloppily down the hall and around the corner, hitting the wall and almost falling again multiple times.

“Now what in the hell is up with him _now_?” Breda said to himself out loud, waiting another minute or two until he could hear a faint slam far off in the distance, hoping that it was the sound of the boy’s room door. He sighed and stood back up. “It’s always something…well, he’s got major issues. I can understand him freaking out every once in a while I guess.” He stood to continue to where he was originally headed when he heard another door, not too far behind him and not too far from where he’d just come from. It didn’t slam; it closed very quietly. If it had been day he would’ve missed it entirely. He turned to look but didn’t see anything or anyone, so he turned back and kept on his way.

._._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._.

"I'm telling you! It was a piece of cake thanks to this kid!" one state alchemist shouted over everyone else in the room, pointing over his shower stall to the one where Ed was standing.

"You can stop calling me a kid now." Ed hissed, letting the hot water run down his hair.

Another state alchemist chuckled and walked up to Ed's stall, knocking on it with his knuckles. "It's not even an insult."

"And it's true!" the first soldier blurted out next. "You barely started puberty. That screams child."

"Shut up!" Ed shouted next, making everyone in the room burst into laughter. "I'm glad you all think this is funny!"

A third soldier turned his shower off and walked out. "Call down Fullmetal. It's a hidden compliment. We were all struggling trying to come up with a plan to catch those robbers for over an hour without making them hurt any of the hostages. Then here you come out of nowhere, and in seconds you deconstruct the building, cage every single one of the culprits individually, separate them from their guns, create a path for the hostages to escape, and then put the building _back_ together."

The first soldier leaned his head over his stall wall. "See? We're just impressed a twelve year old can pull off in seconds what we couldn’t even come up with in theory in hours. And we've all worked here longer than you've been alive."

Ed sighed, still letting the water run all over him. "...it wasn’t _that_ hard to be honest..."

"Haha, well of course it wasn’t for _you_ I suppose. You don’t have to pretend like you don’t like the compliments." The first soldier turned his water off too and stepped out, sitting down on the benches across from the shower stalls. "Who taught you alchemy like that anyways?"

"My teacher. My brother and I trained with her back when we were younger, before I lost my arm and leg."

"And the fighting?"

"Same person. She was ruthless, let me tell you." Ed turned his shower off next and wringed his hair out, then stepped out as well and stood over his bin with his clothes in it.

A fourth, half-dressed soldier walked up next while fastening his bottoms. "So _that's_ automail. Won’t it rust if you get it all wet like that?"

"No." Ed held his metal fist up so the soldier could look at it. "As long as I keep up with it it'll be fine."

The third soldier laughed under his breath. “Keep up with it? You broke it like eighteen times since you’ve been here! Your mechanic nearly gave you a concussion the last time.”

“Shut up!” Ed snapped back instantly through clenched teeth. “It works now _doesn’t it_?”

"Wow." The fourth soldier stepped up closer to get a better look at Ed's shoulder and arm, making Ed freeze with his hand still in the air. "It must have hurt like hell getting that...installed? That the word you use?"

"...it could be." Ed took a step back.

"No, comere. Let me see." The fourth solder chuckled and walked up closer. "It's amazing really. Almost like science fiction."

The first soldier walked up next, crouching down and knocking on Ed's metal thigh next. "Yeah, this is my first time actually seeing automail this up close."

“Stop." Ed involuntarily blurted out, pulling his fist back and backing away from the two. "Please don’t touch me."

The first soldier looked up and noticed a growing horrified expression on the boy's face, and his widened eyes which seemed to be staring past the shower room walls and into nothing. "What's up? You're usually so feisty. It's not like you to be so shy." He grabbed the upper part of Ed's automail leg next, close to where his flesh thigh ended, and studied it. "It looks extremely professional."

"Yes, I was going to say the same thing." The fourth soldier put both hands on Ed's shoulders and rubbed them. "You've got a great set of prosthetics."

"Stop!" Ed screamed, clapping his hands together impulsively.

The first soldier jumped up and grabbed Ed by his wrists before he could hurt anyone. "Hey man! Calm down, we were just looking at your automail!"

"Don't touch me! Don’t touch me let me go!" Ed began flailing uncontrollably, trying to free his wrists. "Stop! Stoppit!"

"What's the matter!" The second soldier yelled, running up and bear hugging Ed from behind, then sitting on the floor with him and restraining him to keep him from kicking or punching anyone. "Breathe!"

"LET GO OF ME!" Ed screamed loudly and startled the second state alchemist, causing him to release Ed who scurried over to the wall next to the benches where he leaned up against it and closed his eyes tight, knees to chest, teeth clenched, arms wrapped around his torso, wet hair all around him, hyperventilating and shaking.

"The hell happened?" The first soldier mumbled after Ed's breathing slowed a bit. "We didn’t mean to scare you kid."

Ed opened his eyes and looked up at everyone who was frozen in place mid-task, all of them afraid to make any sudden movements. He frowned painfully and turned away so they couldn’t see his face, then turned back when he saw the third soldier walking up slowly.

The soldier stopped for a second when he saw Ed tense up, then came closer and kneeled down when he untensed. "Okay, we won’t touch it, alright?" He held out his hand which held a cooled face towel.

Ed almost instantly took the towel and wiped his face with it.

"I don’t know what happened just now, but just know you're safe here, okay?" The soldier said as Ed continuously rubbed the cold towel over his now sweaty face. "I don’t know exactly what you and your brother have been through, but I can tell it's a lot. Not too many kids who lose arms and legs at such a young age are exactly 'unscathed.' But you can trust us here, okay? You can trust all of us."

Ed, his face still hidden by the towel, bit his lower lip to keep it from quivering.  
  
The soldier nodded even though he only received silence as a reply. "You and your brother...well all kids, you all have a pure innocence about you guys. I can see it in _you_ now, right now. It's too bad you decided to join the military and even worse that they actually allowed it, but I guess you have your reasons."  
  
"...innocence?" Ed coughed out weakly with a flat and empty amused tone, then bit his lip once more and went quiet again.

"What is all the commotion?"

The entrance to the showers opened up a moment later, and the colonel stepped in.

"Sir." The third soldier still kneeling in front of Ed called out. "We were just calming Fullmetal down. He panicked for some reason, but he's fine."

Mustang sighed loudly. "Really, Fullmetal?"

Ed tensed back up. He stopped biting his lip, still keeping his face hidden behind the towel. "………it won’t happen again."

"It better not. This is a military building, not a schoolyard. This room is full of grown men not children. That goes for all of you, not just him. Now hurry up. You guys have a lot of work to get done."

"Sir." They all said as he left, including Ed.

"Technically speaking Fullmetal isn’t a grown man yet mister colonel sir." The third soldier mumbled after the door closed, making everyone laugh hard while trying to stay quiet. Even Ed laughed.

"I HEARD THAT KEITH!" Mustang's voice boomed through the walls, making everyone hush up only to start laughing even harder seconds later.

“Kid. I mean, Fullmetal.” The third soldier, Keith, called afterwards.

Ed didn’t reply, and instead stood up and walked back over to his clothes and started getting dressed.

“You okay now?” Yet another soldier asked, pointing to Ed's abdomen. "What happened to your tummy? That line there..."

Ed didn’t answer him. He slipped his blue boxers on and then his black pants, fastening the brown belt and then pulling a medium-sized padlock and chain mechanism out of one of his pockets and clamping it over his belt buckle, its simple look actually rendering it nearly impossible to open without the key.

Keith, getting dressed now, stopped and looked at him and the lock in amusement. “That a new fashion trend or something? I mean it’s not like your sense of style is anything to be amazed by in the first place…sorry to tell you, but it looks weird to be honest. Maybe if you put it somewhere other than your belt-“

“My automail was made by my personal mechanic that I grew up with back in my hometown. Al grew up with her too.”

Keith exhaled, realizing that he’d been cut off, but then he sighed and chuckled to himself, willfully going along with the change of conversation. “Those limbs look like they took a _lot_ of work to make. And she made them from scratch?”

“Yes.” Ed smiled and relaxed his nerves a bit, pulling his shorter black jacket over his tank top and clamping it at the neck like always. “She shaped the metal all herself too. It’s custom made specifically for me.”

“She must care about you a lot. And you seem to break it all the time.”

“It’s not too pleasant when that happens.” Ed laughed, finally clipping his pocket watch back to his belt buckle and sticking it in his pocket. “She has a series of wrenches with my name on them whenever I break her automail.”

“Yikes. That must be where the near-concussion came from.” Keith stood up too, finished as well. “We might as well go. He said we have a ‘lot’ of work which is probably an understatement.”

._._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._ ._.

“You guys…” Mustang sat behind his desk with his legs crossed, face resting on his closed hand, staring across at the four people seated at the four-seat desk in the middle of his office as he repeatedly tapped his pen impatiently on his blue desk mat. “It’s almost midnight.”

A series of stacked papers lined the desks in the middle of the room, with three soldiers at each desk, yawning and trying to stay awake, Ed seated with them on the right side closest to Mustang’s desk. His stack of papers higher than anyone else’s.

“Maybe you can just let us finish this tomorrow, colonel?” Breda suggested, but got a head shake as a response.

“These need to be done by tonight.” Mustang responded. “You guys are almost finished, right?”

“Yes sir, just about.” Breda looked up after finishing a smaller stack and setting it on top of a bigger one. “Gracious.” he said, surprised. “Ed, we should just give all of our work to you at this rate.”

“Yeah how are you getting that all done this quickly?” The Keith guy asked, walking over to the desk to retrieve the stacks of papers so he could pack them in the box seated by the door.

“It’s not hard.” Ed sighed. “It really isn’t.”

“Yeah I know _that_.” Brada looked at his next set of papers with a look that said he wanted to light them on fire. “But that’s what makes it boring.”

Ed layed his head on his desk and continued writing. “I’m just saying that to try to convince myself I want to do this so I can get it done. Dunno why I’m doing this anyways. This is work for regular soldiers.”

The other soldiers laughed at him.

“Well I guess that’s one way to do it.” The soldier across from him said. “Sorry that our _regular_ work is so boring.”

Ed laughed to himself. “I didn’t mean it like that.” He tapped the tip of his pen on his paper stack, then sat back up and passed them to Keith. “I’m finished, Mustang. I’m gonna go now.”

“…..take those papers from Breda.”

“I can finish them myself. It’s not much.” Breda chimed in, but Mustang held up a hand.

“Give them to Fullmetal. He can do them.”

Breda looked over at Ed, who’s head was now hanging so low that his bangs were hiding his face. He quietly held out his hand towards Breda, gesturing for him to hand him the papers.

Breda frowned. “Eh…a-are you sure-?”

“Just give them to me.” Ed said in a hushed but stern voice, cutting Breda’s sentence short.

“…yeah, sure.” Breda passed the papers onto Ed, then sighed and drummed his hands on his pants. “I…guess that means I’m done?” He looked around, getting a similar response from everyone else.

Keith shook his head. “Not me. You guys go ahead. I have to wait until Fullmetal finishes these small stacks of papers first.

“I’ll take care of it.” Mustang stopped tapping his pen and used the end of it to point to the box. “It’s just those last pieces of paper. I can set them in there myself, or he can do it.”

“Okay.” Keith leaned over in front of Ed and licked his tongue at him. “I guess I finish first.”

Ed ignored him and continued filling out the papers, face still hidden by the front of his hair.

Keith laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head. “Okay, okay. I’ll leave you alone.” He turned and saluted Mustang like the rest of the soldiers did before turning to leave.

“Make sure you don’t stay up too late you know?” Breda advised Ed before turning to leave himself, getting ignored as well.

Once the door closed behind everyone, Ed stopped writing, and just held the pen still in his left hand, still staring down at the paper. He could hear the faint tick from his pocket watch, could hear the chatter of the guys outside in the hallway grow fainter and fainter until they were gone.

“…….Fullmetal.”

Ed ignored Mustang as well, clutching the pen tighter.

“It’s hot in here.” Mustang waited for a response, but got none. Then he sighed heavily. “It’s always my office that gets hot. No one else’s.”

Ed turned slightly to where he could see over in Mustang’s direction but to where his face was still hidden. The colonel was still seated behind his desk, still leaning forward with his head rested on his closed hand and his elbow on the desk, only now he was actually doing some paperwork. And he had his white gloves on now. He watched as the colonel slowed his writing, looked up at Ed for a brief second without lifting or moving his head, then back down at his paper and began writing at normal speed again.

“….it’s hot…” he mumbled again. “Very.”

Ed clenched his teeth, clutching the pen so hard it hurt now. “…..I want to go to my room now.”

“….so hot.”

Ed breathed through his teeth, making a hissing sound by accident. He clamped his teeth down on his lip and stood up after a long silence, then forced himself to walk over to Mustang’s desk as usual. He waited there for the colonel to move so he can fit by, but he didn’t. Instead, Mustang uncrossed his legs and moved his left one back to make room for a crawl space.

Ed hung his head again, fists tightened, his jaw quivering uncontrollably. “……..h-“ he started to speak, but stopped abruptly when Mustang’s pen stopped. He inhaled through his teeth again and tensed up, then when Mustang started writing again he forced his body to listen to him as he made himself crawl through the space between Mustang’s leg and the desk, ending up underneath the desk where he could see the front of Mustang’s military jacket. Once he was completely under, Mustang moved his left foot back, blocking the crawlspace he made. He kept on writing.

Ed stared up at Mustang’s jacket, clutching his hands tightly within each other to try and stop his convulsing. His breathing so disturbed he was wheezing, his entire face going numb. He heard the colonel stir and it startled him badly. He swallowed hard, crawling forward and standing up in front of Mustang, now practically at eye-level with him. Except because Mustang was still sitting up writing their faces didn’t meet. Ed waited a few more seconds so his hands could slow their shaking a little more, then he reached up with them still trembling and began unbuttoning the upper part of the colonel’s jacket, opening it so he wouldn’t be so hot anymore, already knowing that he wasn’t wearing an undershirt. Then he froze up again.

“…my neck has sweat dripping down from this heat.”

Ed’s breath was shaky. His knee felt weak. He subtly scooted towards where he’d crawled through, but even with gentle pressure he could tell that Mustang was using the strength in his legs and arms to keep him there. Ed looked back at Mustang’s neck. There was sweat.

“…it’s dripping all the way down my chest…”

Ed stared at the beads of sweat. He was sweating now too. He brought his trembling hands back up to Mustang’s collar and pulled it open some more, breath shaking uncontrollably as he brought his face to Mustang’s neck. He exhaled and closed his eyes. The deep, dark redness that was behind his closed eyelids almost immediately faded away, and he could see the tall uneven grass all over the fields in Resembool, the rays from the sun when it rose and set dyeing the entire land a golden-yellowish tint. He could see and hear him, Al and Winry in the back fields jumping over the crooked fence and playing hide-and-seek in the patches. Their elbows and knees would get so dirty. He could always smell the soil even when he wasn’t bent down hiding. Al always talked about how good the soil and the grass smelled too. The sun felt so good…he was always the best at climbing all the trees to get the lemons down even though Pinako kept telling them to leave it alone…he was the only one that could climb it without getting all scraped up, so none of the grown ups could tell…….Ed stuck his tongue out and started licking the sweat off of Mustang’s neck, trying with all of his might to not gag and throw up all over him. He could hear Mustang sigh softly out of pleasure…..some of those lemons he’d bring home to his mom and him and Al would beg her to make lemonade. He loved her lemonade over anyone else’s. Al would always buy some from the store way down the path close to the train station, but Ed would buy candy instead. Or lemons if the tree had no more. He even took some of the seeds from his mom’s lemonade and thought to grow them the old-fashioned way without any alchemy as a surprise for her, but Winry’s dog dug it all up a week later…..Ed moved to the front of Mustang’s neck and started lapping at that part next, feeling Mustang’s Adams’s apple vibrate every so often when he’d sound out as a reaction to Ed’s tongue. Then to the notch in his neck, putting his entire mouth on it now and creating faint suckling sounds, making his nose rub against Mustang’s skin. He heard Mustang exhale again. He slurped inward to pull back the sweat he’d collected so far and swallowed it to empty his mouth and to get it away from his taste buds, then continued.

“…it’s dripping all the way down my chest…man it’s hot…” Mustang sighed quietly.

Ed clenched his eyes even tighter, whining out loud by accident. He grabbed and squeezed the edges of the jacket’s opening and opened it even more to expose the colonel’s damp chest and stomach. He began licking the center of his chest muscles, his nails inadvertently digging into the fabric that he clung to……oh yeah. Those apples. Winry asked if he would check to see if the red kind were at any stores in the area so he could bring them back with him the next time he and Al visited. She said those are the sweetest and she promised she’d make enough pie so the rest of the soldiers Ed and Al are friends with could have some….he moved down to his stomach and navel, his mouth filled with a salty taste again. His own salty drop fell from one of his eyes and right into his mouth. He could tell the difference in its taste. He moved even further down, feeling _something_ stick him up under his chin. He panicked and went to stand out of reflex, but Mustang put a hand on top of Ed’s head and applied light pressure to keep him down. Ed involuntarily opened his eyes and could see the bulge in Mustang’s pants. He began to panic and shake all over even more. He grabbed himself tightly, turned his face away and shut his eyes again, then tried to imagine himself back in Resembool like he always did…

_*…the fields…Mom’s lemonade…Winry’s pie…the fields…Granny’s house…….*_

Ed stuck his tongue back out to lick at the bulge next, but he froze up again, this time unable to do it. He started hyperventilating again, very audibly, and he started thinking outloud. “…the fields…Mom’s lemonade…Winry’s pie…the fields…Granny’s house...Mom’s house…my bed…My mom…Mom….Mommy…….Mommy....”

Mustang tightened his hold on the top of Ed’s hair, pulling a painful lock into his strong fist. He put his pen down and reached under the desk to undo his own trousers, pulling his hardness out and holding it in front of the boy’s face.

Ed’s eyes opened again and then widened at the sight of Mustang’s manhood, and he became hysterical against his own will, whining, occasionally screaming his thoughts out now. “…MY BED…THE FIELDS…MY MOM…MOMMY…ALPHONSE…THE LEMON TREE I LIKE THE LEMON TREE.”

Mustang yanked the boy closer, pressing his lips against his hardness and occasionally getting it to almost go in but failing due to how much Ed was turning his head back and forth to avoid it.

Ed was screaming now, pushing with all the strength in his arms against Mustang’s abdomen in an attempt to escape, desperately trying to pull away but being unable to because of how bad it hurt being held by the hair so tightly. He lost his ability to put his mind somewhere else and began shouting uncontrollably at Mustang, beating and shoving at the colonel’s forearm to try and push his hardness away from his face but failing. “No! I don’t want to!” he cried out, trying to pry Mustang’s hands off of his hair now. “I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE! I CAN’T TAKE THIS ANYMORE!”

Mustang stayed quiet, eyes narrowed with a small smirk as he used barely any of his strength to keep the boy in place. He yanked him closer again, pressing it past his lips and against his partly opened teeth, the tip of it getting wet from Ed’s damp cheeks and the top of his tongue. “…come on Fullmetal…just like all the other times.”

“NO! STOPPIT, PLEASE! I DON’T WANT TO!”

Mustang gripped Ed’s hair even tighter, forcing Ed to open wider and scream louder, his hardness slipping deep into Ed’s mouth. Mustang quickly let go of his hardness and grabbed onto another lock of the boy’s hair on the side of his head behind his ear and yanked him even closer, making it go deeper into Ed’s mouth and gag him.

Ed stopped trying to pry Mustang’s hand off the top of his hair and went back to shoving at his abdomen, beating at it with closed fists, trying so desperately to push away from him. “STOP! PLEASE! STOP!” He dug his nails into Mustang’s bicep and tried shaking and pushing it away, still screaming and pleading as he choked his words out. He managed to pull his left leg up enough to kick Mustang in the chin and cause him to let go of his hair. Ed banged himself up as he quickly scurried out from under the desk and ran around to the front of it. “I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!” he screamed while frozen in place, eyes still widened, body still shaking, a small bruise forming in the corner of his mouth. “I can’t…” He started subtly taking tiny slide-steps backwards towards the door, readying to make a run for it, watching the colonel calmly bring his elbow back up to the top of the desk to rest his head on his hand, watching him slip his tongue out of his closed moth to lick his dry lips then pull it back in, eyes still narrowed, his usual smug expression on his face.

“I can’t…I can’t…I don’t care what you do. I don’t care what anyone does I’m telling!”

Mustang narrowed his eyes more. He raised his other hand and snapped his fingers, singeing the parts of Ed's automail arm and leg that were connected to his skin underneath his clothes.

Ed screamed out in pain and collapsed to the ground onto his side, hugging his arm and leg.

Mustang snapped his fingers again, heating up the metal some more to where it began to smoke.

Ed jerked his neck back and screeched even louder, banging his head hard on the floor.

“Your brother.” Mustang calmly scooted away from his desk and stood as he began to speak. “The military would love to take him and do research to find the safest way to bond disembodied souls to intimate objects like you’ve done. If a soldier dies during a war, their soul can be transferred to an armored body and they can continue fighting. With their consent of course.”

Ed unclenched his limbs and plugged his ears, but Mustang, who'd casually walked over to him, leaned over and grabbed his metal arm. He pulled it off of his ear and yanked him a few centimeters off the floor, holding his fingers in front of Ed’s face, ready to snap them again if he struggled.

“They’d want to test the durability of such seal. How much damage can it take before the seal breaks? How many scratches can it handle? Can the seal maintain itself underwater?” He straddled the twelve-year-old and kneeled down over him, popping the clip on his collar open as he still groaned in pain. “The only reason why that isn’t happening is because you are under my care. The only reason why you aren’t in jail for nearly a life sentence for that failed abomination of a transmutation is because I agreed to watch over you and have you serve under me. And those jail cells are alchemy resistant by the way. _And_ not all people who go in are accounted for every few years when we do a census of the place.”

Ed turned his head away to hide his pained expression, fearing having his skin burned again.

“And then you run all around this country, causing messes only a heathen could dream up like causing scenes in the shower room for instance. That all falls back on me. And that’s the thanks I get. But I still decide to let you stay in this military under me and continue this research every time.” Mustang turned Ed over onto his back, reaching for his belt but noticing the lock on his pants. “That’s cleaver. You used tungsten to make this lock didn’t you?” He grabbed Ed by the top of his hair again, and snapped a third time, catching the lock and easily melting it off of Ed’s belt.

Ed, horrified by how easily he melted his lock, turned to the side to let it fall to the floor before it melted through his clothes and burned him.

Mustang stood back up, pulling Ed with him and dangling him, staring him in his eyes as he pulled the boy's belt apart and let his pants drop down around his ankles. Then his red jacket, and tossed it over onto the desk.

Ed closed his eyes again, feeling himself be pulled over to his familiar place in front of the colonel’s desk, feeling the front upper part of his body being bent and slammed down on top of the desk, on top of the papers that were being written on a few minutes ago, the top of his head burning in pain from the tight grip, the side of his face throbbing from the impact, his feet dangling and swaying, not able to reach the ground.

“…Mom…” he said out loud, keeping his eyes closed. “Alphonse…AL! ALPHON-“ He stopped when he felt the colonel’s gloved fingers against his ear. He went quiet again and waited for them to go away, making slight hiccup sounds out of fear everytime he heard a metal clasp on the colonel’s uniform come loose. _*…lemon tree…the lemons are so good…and I have to go to the store in the morning…*_ He felt his boxers being pulled on next, and next they fell to his ankles on top of his pants. _*…there’s no bread…I’ll try to find the kind that Mom liked. The sour kind…*_ He felt the familiar intense pain as Mustang pressed into him hard. Ed screamed through his throat in pain, unable to kick his legs because of his pants allowing them to go only so far apart. They swayed back in forth between Mustang’s. _*THE TREE! THE LEMON TREE! Maybe Winry can make that lemonade!*_ He felt Mustang lay all the way on top of him, making the front of his stomach painfully scrape against the edge of the desk with every thrust, aligning perfectly with the sore line-shaped bruise that was already there. The force of each thrust swung his feet the few centimeters forward that they could go until they slammed into the desk, over and over again, making a “thud” sound. “Aaaaaaaaaah!” Ed screamed out loud. “Hnnnnnngaaaah!” He balled his fists, and pressed them into the top of the desk, into the dents that were there from all the other times, trying to take the pain. “IT HURTS!” He screamed. “HAAAAH!”

Mustang reached his arm around Ed, grabbing his jaw and clamping his hand tightly over it, feeling free to thrust as hard as he needed now and letting the boy scream horribly muffled, blood curdling screeches from behind his hand.

“OW! OOW! OOOOW! HAAAAAAAA! HHNNNNGGGGHAAHAAAAAAH!”

Mustang closed his eyes and rested his head on Ed’s back, moaning quietly, almost like a whisper, completely tuning out the boy.

 _*GRANNY....*_ Ed's eyes were open wide now. He stared lifelessly at the wall as he screamed, his eyes burning from not blinking them. It was almost the same color as the walls in Pinako's livingroom. The sound his boots made as they hit the desk...it sounded like the meat cleaver when she cooked...Mustang's breathing sounded like the dog cooling off. His heavy body, it was like the dog was lying across him…yeah. _*...I want......I want...Granny...I.....*_ He can’t tell. He couldn’t tell her. She asked before. _Are they treating you boys fair?_ As she sat at the table tuning his leg up.

"Yes, we even have our own room at the station." Al answered excitedly. "And it's upstairs."

Ed nodded quietly, seated on the couch between Mustang and Hawkeye who'd come along.

"No one's hurting you are they? Or picking at you?" Pinako asked the same question differently.

Ed shook his head, pressing his hand in his lap, staring down at his right foot, face hidden by his bangs.

Mustang reached over and put his hand on top of Ed's head, rubbing the hidden bruised part of his scalp gently with his middle and ring finger instead of pulling it violently. "I've been keeping an eye on them. I make sure they’re safe."

"Thank you." Pinako reached behind her to grab a different screwdriver. "They stay so hushed about everything...I'm hard on you two and I'm sure the colonel is too, but you know you can always come to us and tell us anything. Alright?"

"Okay." Al responded, distracted by the chickens outside the window now.

"...m-hm..." Ed nodded once slightly, still staring down but at the spare attached to his left leg now. His breath became shaky, and a lump formed in his throat. _*I have to...*_ He rose his head, jaw quivering, voice shaky. "...I...um..."

Everyone turned their attention to him.

 _*...I have to.*_ "...Granny......he-"

"There's an inspection that needs to be done regarding one of the laboratories under the military's control." Mustang spoke over Ed. "It has to do with the same kind of alchemy used to bond the younger brother's soul to that armor. Depending on the situation they might need to go be included in the group who'll be inspecting the place. It's classified, but since you are like family to them I thought I'd tell you."

Ed stopped talking and instantly closed his mouth.

Pinako put the screwdriver down and turned the metal leg over. "That's kind of you, thank you."

 _*...Granny...I can't take...*_ Ed pressed his hand into his lap harder, feeling Mustang's fingers rub his head a little softer.

"Do you have a restroom?" Mustang asked next, taking his hand back. "If you don’t mind."

"Yes." Pinako pointed over her shoulder towards the back of the house. "Ed, show the colonel where it is would you?"

"Okay." Ed responded voicelessly, sliding off the couch and turning to go towards there, tensing up and becoming nauseous when he felt Mustang grab the top of his hair lightly into a fist once they made it into the hallway.

_*.…Granny.......I can’t......*_

Ed pressed his fists even harder into the desk, his left one in pain. His right leg and left thigh completely numb now, the wall a complete blur, throat growing sorer as he continuously cried out, struggling to breathe through Mustang's constrictive grip. _*...I wanna go to the fields...and play, with Al...*_

._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._.

1:43am. Ed lay limp on his side in front of Mustang’s desk, where he'd fallen when Mustang released him, his pants still around his ankles. The tungsten lock he’d made a few days prior, the one Mustang melted, was laying embedded into the floor, already cooled enough to have turned back to its original color. He sobbed quietly, speaking to himself, his mind's way of not losing its sanity. “…the fields…I like those…right outside Granny’s house…the grass always needs to be cut this time of year……yeah okay…we’ll go sometime this year…we can play like before…and pick the lemons……as soon as we get...our bodies back…..”

Mustang was back in his chair, leaned back and looking at the part of the ceiling over the middle of the room, taking deep sighs of relief, completely relaxed, shirt unbuttoned. He looked down at his desk and noticed that the dents where Ed’s fists always go got a little deeper. He rearranged his blue mat so it’d cover them, then layed back again and went back to staring at the ceiling, practically dozing off. He heard Ed’s automail stirring, heard him talking to himself, but was used to it and thus soon tuned it out too and heard nothing but pure silence.

Ed, still lying on his side, looked up at the chair he was seated in earlier, fixated on the pen and the papers that were still there and his chair that was still pulled out. _*…that day…*_

A hallucination of himself seated there appeared. It was him from a year ago when he was eleven, a pile of alchemic research books in front of him, one of them open in his hands.

_*Why didn’t…*_

He could see the determination in his face that never faded no matter how late he studied,  he could remember how heavy the books felt in his young hands and how much information they had. _*I just, I didn’t-*_ He still remembered the colonel rubbing his shoulders while praising him for once and how good it felt to finally hear positive words from him or anyone, the sudden dread when his grip got tighter after mentioning the research on Al’s seal that very first time. _*I just wanted-*_ He remembered Mustang’s arm around his abdomen as his feet kicked wildly mere inches off of the floor, fighting and screaming for someone – anyone – as Mustang used his free hand to pry all of his fingers from the door handle. _*It’s all my…if I would have never-*_ He remembered Mustang flicking the light switch and turning off every light in the office, remembered losing a shoe as he kicked wildly in the dark, trying to free himself as Mustang dragged him viciously across the room while clutching his jaw from behind, hitting the desks and chairs in the middle of the office with his legs as he passed by.

“I just wanted-“

He could remember how he begged and shouted and beat on Mustang’s chest and shoulders, spit flying and hitting Mustang in the face as he tore away both of their clothes, the thunder outside drowning out his pleads.

_*I JUST WANTED-*_

He could remember the shadow that was cast every time the lightning flashed across Mustang’s desk, how it showed the hair on the top of his head being held taut, his head forcefully pulled backwards and his mouth completely fallen open as he screamed towards the ceiling in pain, how his silhouette leaped forward then back with each thrust, how the metronomed creak of the desk echoed off the corner of the walls, how his heart skipped a beat with each of the colonel’s loud and menacing grunts.

He remembered how no one came to save him, never knowing if his screams went unheard or ignored. He remembered lying there on the floor in front of the desk where he did now, naked and cold in a ball and wailing loudly with tears streaming as Mustang stood there right next to him and got dressed then grabbed his trench coat. _*why…*_ steady crying hard and loud still as the colonel left for the night without looking back or saying a word, remembered how broken, how soul-torn….

Ed tightened his fists and turned away from that chair and towards Mustang's desk, snapping out of the triggered flashback. He saw the black and red scuff marks on the front of the desk from his boots and turned away again. He then spotted a pen that had probably fallen off of the desk. He grabbed it and quickly sketched a lemon tree in his palm, then a stick figured Winry, a human stick figured Al, and him with his real arm and leg, all smiling in front of the tree. He dropped the pen and squeezed his hand shut, holding it close to his chest and nodding repeatedly as if being consoled by words only he could hear told to him by the drawing.

After another long while, when Ed's mind finally went completely quiet, he rolled over, pulling his boxers back up, then his pants, accidentally getting some of Mustang’s aftermath on his hand and in turn on his pants, creating more spots. Most of Ed’s hair was out of his braid, and it hung all over his face and shoulders. He buckled his belt, then reached up and yanked the part of his red jacket that hung off of the desk. A note fell with it, showing a map that named off the prison that Mustang always told him about, along with the research lab. Left there as a warning. Ed’s first instinct was to crumple the paper, but he stopped himself, fearing Mustang’s reaction. Instead, he used all of his strength to pull himself into a standing position using the edge of the desk and sat the note back up there on the blue mat. Then he carefully made his way to the door and left out, quietly shutting it behind him.


End file.
